Turning Back
by Elizabeth Wilde
Summary: Wolfram & Hart send Lindsey to kill Buffy, and when he backs out, he turns to the Slayer for protection.


Author: Elizabeth Wilde (aka Gabby Spike)   
Title: Turning Back  
Distribution: Anyone who has my fic, anyone who asks me for it, my site at www dot biteyourtonguet dot net /wilde  
Disclaimer: I don't own anybody. I'm not making money. Just borrowing and playing, I swear! Don't sue!  
'Ship: Lindsey/Buffy  
Classification: angst  
Summary: Wolfram & Hart send Lindsey to kill Buffy, and when he backs out, he turns to the Slayer for protection.  
Rating: R [violence, sexual situations]  
Spoilers: Season 1 and through "Dear Boy" of Angel and through "Family" of Buffy. After that, it's my world and I'm doing what I want with it :P  
Feedback: gabbyspike5 at yahoo.com

Lindsey knew it was a dream. Even if he hadn't known, the fact that he'd had more or less the same dream for two weeks straight would have tipped him off.

Not that it mattered.

The woman in his arms was beautiful. More than he had ever wanted anyone before, he wanted her. He could feel her nails trailing down his back through the relatively thin fabric of his button-down shirt, feel her lips crushed against his, fell her breasts pressed against his chest. He heard himself moaning her name, heard the erratic mix of their heavy breathing, heard his own pulse pounding in his ears. She was drawing him forward, leading him until her back rested against the wall.

She moved her lips from his and smiled, beautiful blue-green eyes a shade darker than usual. Her voice was low and breathy when she whispered, "You know what you have to do."

As always in the dream, Lindsey felt an overwhelming sense of confusion. He shook his head slightly, still holding her tight against him. "What-"

And then his arms were empty and the woman lay on the ground, blood--her blood--pooling around her. Looking down, Lindsey saw a bloody knife in his left hand. It clattered to the floor, but blood was still spattered over his hands, on the white dress shirt. "No... I... didn't..."

"Of course you did. You did what you had to do," Lilah whispered at his side. "You did what they asked."

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"What's the matter with you? You look like death warmed over."

"You certainly are pleasant first thing in the morning, Lilah," Lindsey replied with a cold smile. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"Ever heard of a lock?" She leaned against the doorframe. "Seriously, Lindsey, what's going on with you lately?"

"Bad dreams."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Anything useful?"

"Not to you." Lindsey turned back to his work pointedly and listened until Lilah walked away in annoyance before taking his "hand" off the mouse and leaning back. He felt satisfied that the newest mechanical hand given to him by the company looked far more human than the first, but he missed really feelingthings. Even in his dream, only his left hand allowed him to feel the woman's soft skin.

The woman.

The Slayer.

Lindsey sighed. Of all the women in the world, why Buffy Summers? I don't even know her.He had never been prone to prophetic dreams. Or any dreams at all. A large part of Lindsey wished he could go back to waking up remembering only a warm, pleasant blackness instead of the gentle touch of Buffy's hands, the warmth of her, her blood on his hands.

Rising with a scowl, Lindsey exited his office and walked down the hall. "Sir?"

Holland looked up from a stack of papers and smiled. "Lindsey! Come in. Please, sit. How's the case going?"

"Fine. It should be over this afternoon." Lindsey sat down across from the older man. He didn't feel like small talk. "Sir, what do we have planned for the Slayer?" He couldn't trust himself to say her name without betraying his troubled thoughts.

"The Slayer?" Holland looked both surprised and pleased. "How do you know we have anything planned?"

"Let's call it a hunch."

Seeming satisfied, the man leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his chest. "We're planning on killing her, to put it simply. She's Angel's weakest link. If we destroy her, we weaken him. When he's weak, we move in and finish him off. Problem solved." Lindsey called on years of experience to keep the sudden sense of dread that overtook him from showing. "Actually, we'd like you to do it."

Dread became near-panic. "I'm not a fighter. I-"

Holland held up a hand. "I didn't mean directly. Naturally, you wouldn't do it yourself. We can't afford to take that sort of risk. I mean that we want you to go to Sunnydale and perform the ritual to call up the demon. After your success with Darla, we feel you're more than qualified."

Success...Lindsey allowed himself the mental equivalent of a bitter smile before nodding. "If that's where you want me, that's where I'll be."

Holland smiled, lips stretching back in a way that looked almost painful. "Good. You finish up your case this afternoon and then get on the next plane to Sunnydale."

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Buffy found it strange that she was making out with a stranger even in a dream.

But it was a dream, and it felt amazing.

She was clinging to the man as if her life depended on it, digging her nails into his back as he kissed her, their tongues twisting together. She needed him to be as close to her as possible and pulled him toward a wall she somehow knew was behind them. His hips ground against hers and she heard herself moaning his name, "Lindsey," her voice a husky whisper against his mouth before her moans were swallowed again.

Buffy heard herself speak again as she pulled away from him. "You know what you have to do."

"What-" Confusion was etched across his handsome features and then he was gone. She felt a sharp pain, cried out, and then fell, head rolling back. Buffy could feel warm blood seeping from the wound at her heart. As her vision began to cloud, she could see the man standing over her holding a bloody knife. "No..."

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"You're moping again."

"I am not! I'm..." Buffy sighed. "Okay, Will, I'm moping."

"Well, stop. We're Bronzing! It's fun!" She smiled hopefully and glanced at Tara. "Right?"

Tara nodded and offered Buffy a shy smile, eyes dark and depthless in the dimly-lit club. "She's right. This is fun."

"You guys are too nice. You should have left me at home."

"No!" Willow protested. "We couldn't do that! Not with you still all depressed about Riley leaving... And I'm realizing I probably shouldn't have actually said that."

"No, it's okay," Buffy assured her friend, waving her hand as if to clear the air of the subject itself. "I just... I didn't think he'd go and enlist, ya know? You'd think one disturbing experience with the military would be enough."

"It's what he knows how to do. He likes it."

"I know. And I knew we weren't working. It still hurts." Swallowing any depression thinking about Riley conjured, Buffy scanned the room, eyes going suddenly wide. "Oh, my God... Will, that guy over there! He's the one!"

Willow's gaze followed her friend's and she frowned. "In the dream? With the kissing and the," she mimicked a stabbing motion.

Buffy nodded mutely, rising from the table. "I'll be back."

"Buffy-"

"I need to find out," she replied without turning. I can't not talk to him... I need to,she realized uneasily. He had watched her approach, eyes following her every move carefully. Finally she stood directly in front of him. She did her best to hide the instant sense of excitement at being so close to the man of her dreams in a scowl. "Who the Hell are you and what are you doing here?"

His brow furrowed slightly. "You've had them too..."

He had the dreams! Oh, God..."Who are you?" she demanded again.

"Lindsey McDonald."

The name instantly clicked and she felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. "Angel told me all about you," she finally managed, looking disgusted, though in truth it was more with herself than with him. "What are you doing in my town? Not enough people for you to screw over in L.A.?"

He took a deep breath and glanced down at the floor before his piercing blue eyes were on her again. "I deserved that. Actually," he said with a slightly bitter laugh, "I'm supposed to be here to kill you."

Buffy looked incredulous. "Kill me? You?"

"To summon a demon to kill you," he amended.

"Oh. Well that makes a little more sense. I mean, what would you do, bore me to death with a legal argument?" Wow. That was so not appropriate right now. What is wrong with me?"So you're gonna summon some big bad to kill me, huh? I hate to tell you, but I've been there, done that, and not a damn one of them has survived so far."

"I know. And I'm not going to. That's why I'm here, actually," his left arm extended to encompass the club. "I knew you'd be here," he stated calmly.

"What, some fancy locating spell?"

Lindsey smiled a little. "No, actually the firm had someone tail you a few months back to get a feel for your behavioral patterns. I figured you would be here tonight with your friends like you usually are on Fridays."

"Oh." Buffy shifted her weight and tilted her head to the side. "So basically I'm supposed to play bodyguard for someone who was going to kill me just because I have their word?"

"Yeah, that's the basic idea."

"You gave Angel your word."

"And I kept it. I didn't promise anything beyond helping those kids. I did that."

Buffy let out a breath and nodded slowly. "Okay. So you don't try to kill me--which could waste a considerable amount of my time--and I make sure Wolfram and Hart doesn't kill you."

"We have a deal?" Lindsey held out his left hand, which Buffy took.

"Deal."

"Mom, this is Lindsey... He's a friend of Angel's."

Joyce Summers smiled and shook Lindsey's hand. "It's good to meet you, Lindsey. I'm Joyce."

"It's a pleasure meeting you." Lindsey met the smile with a charming one of his own.

"Uh, Mom, Lindsey's going to be in town for a little while, and I thought maybe he could use the spare room?"

Joyce's brow furrowed. "The one with the boxes piled on top of the bed and the old furniture stacked in the corners?"

"That's the one. I'll clean it up," Buffy explained to her mother, wishing she could have thought of a different way to keep a close eye on her charge. "And it shouldn't be for too long."

"I wouldn't impose on you like this, but-"

"Don't you give it a second thought," Joyce broke in. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need." The front door opened and she called, "Dawn? Come in and meet Buffy's friend."

The girl heaved a dramatic sigh and entered the room, expression brightening a bit when she got a good look at Lindsey. Her face split in a huge grin. "I'm Dawn."

Lindsey returned the smile. "Lindsey. Good to meet you."

The second he turned to look back at Joyce, Dawn mouthed, "Hottie," to her sister, who rolled her eyes and then glared. Buffy put a hand on Lindsey's arm. "So, ready to go get set up?"

"Lead the way." As they walked upstairs, Lindsey asked, "Since when do you have a sister?"

Buffy looked startled, then shifted uneasily. "It's… it's a long story. She's sort of…"

"She's not your sister."

"Not technically." Buffy pushed open the door at the very end of the hall and looked inside before pushing it wide. "Wow, this place is a sty. No wonder mom had doubts." She grabbed a large box from the top of the bed and heaved it off. "Shouldn't take too long to at least clear you some living space, though."

She reached for another box and suddenly there was a warm body pressed against hers. "Let me help."

"Th-that's okay," Buffy stammered, moving away from Lindsey quickly, heart pounding already from the contact. "I can get it. Slayer strength and all." Carefully avoiding eye contact, she continued moving boxes and chairs, noting that Lindsey followed her movements carefully, moving his share of junk as well. "Looks like we're pretty much done. Feel free to, y'know, shift 'em around or whatever to make things more comfortable."

"Thank you."

"No problem. Nothing like moving some stuff to get the blood pumping."

"I didn't mean for moving the stuff," Lindsey replied with a slight smile.

Buffy could feel the flush in her cheeks and turned to the door to hide it. "No problem. Just… sleep tight."

"You too. Sweet dreams."

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"Hello again."

Dawn jumped back from the door, face bright red. "Gah! I mean, hi."

Weird kid.Lindsey raised an eyebrow, making sure the door covered most of his barely-clad form. "Any particular reason you're standing outside my door?"

"Uhm… breakfast is ready."

"Thanks. I'll be down in a few minutes."

"I-I'll tell mom."

"You do that." He watched with a smile as Dawn scuttled down the hallway. It felt odd being part of a family, even if it was just the Slayer's answer to the witness protection program. I could get used to this.

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"Buffy, he was only wearing his boxers!"

Lindsey could hear Buffy's sigh even from half-way across the house. "Dawn, he's an adult. Adults can wear—or not wear—whatever they want to bed. What were you doing there anyway?"

"I was just telling him-"

"That breakfast was ready," Lindsey finished for her, entering the kitchen. "Thanks, Dawn. Morning, Buffy. Where's Joyce?"

"Early meeting at work," Dawn replied, smiling her thanks to Buffy as she took a plate of pancakes. "So my sister--who I love dearly--cooked."

The Slayer shook her head. "She only loves me when I give her food."

"Whatever works. Need any help?" Lindsey offered, stepping closer to the Slayer.

"Yes. Eating these." Buffy held out a second plate of pancakes, which Lindsey took, sitting down at the table. "And if you're feeling really adventurous, you can try my coffee. Pancakes I can do. Coffee…"

"I'll stick with orange juice," Lindsey replied, picking up the carton and pouring a glass.

"Wise choice."

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After breakfast, Lindsey helped Buffy clear the dishes from the table. Dawn had bolted the second the last bite was gone from her plate. Coming up behind Buffy, Lindsey slid another plate into the water. He was unable to resist the urge to remain standing there. She smelled good, like pancakes and strawberry shampoo. Without thinking, he put a hand on her waist and leaned in closer.

She responded immediately, leaning back against him. Lindsey pulled her hair closer and pressed his lips to her neck. Almost immediately, Buffy's hand moved to his hair, holding him, then pulling gently, tugging his head up and capturing his lips with hers.

"Buffy, I'm home! I… I'm sorry."

Lindsey stepped away from Buffy and turned his gaze to Joyce. "Ms. Summers, I apologize. This-"

An upheld hand and a smile from the woman in question stopped him. "Please. If a little kissing bothered me, I wouldn't have two children. You two have fun. I'm going to get myself gone." With a wave, Joyce exited the kitchen, shaking her head and grinning.

Buffy laughed and shook her head. "Well, that broke that moment… or whatever it was." Turning away from Lindsey, she busied herself with the dishes again. "Wonder how long it's going to take Wolfram and Hart to notice that you-" The sound of something heavy slamming into the back door cut her off. "Oh, well, that's just what you want to see first thing in the morning," the Slayer complained, referring to the slimy greenish demon slowly breaking down the door. "Apparently this is how long it took them. Man, they're slow."

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"Better late than never," Lindsey observed dryly as Buffy started toward the demon.

"Now, see, you don't even look scary. C'mon, I've seen dust bunnies that gave me more of a start," the Slayer complained as she sent a kick flying into the creature's stomach. It was barely staggered, countering and sending one fist slamming into Buffy's head. Letting out a startled groan, she turned her head, cracking the tense muscles and then smiling. "Much better. Come and get it!" she challenged. It felt good fighting, working out the strange tension that held her captive at the thought of having Lindsey in the same house. Of course, I'd really rather not be fighting in my own kitchen…

The demon took another swipe at Buffy, but she countered it easily, blocking the creature's arm and slamming its own fist into a wide yellow eye. "That looked painful. Maybe you should see a doctor about it." Whirling, she sent a flying kick toward the demon's stomach. It doubled over and she doubled her fists, planting them firmly at the base of its neck. "Lindsey, throw me a knife!" Without glancing back, Buffy caught the handle of the butcher knife Lindsey threw. "Thanks." She took a guess and slid the knife through the creature's back where a person's heart would be. "Nothing. Cute." The demon moved to rise and she took a stab at the other side. It howled in pain and Buffy grinned, shoving the knife in as deep as she could. "Goodnight sweet prince."

Looking down with satisfaction at the dead demon, Buffy suddenly groaned. "God, now I'm gonna hafta clean it up! Dammit. The cleaning is the ishy part." Before she could continue her rant, steam began rising off of the creature. Soon there was nothing left of it but a foul smell and a little ash.

"Wolfram and Hart don't like loose ends," Lindsey said, coming up behind her. "That was a warning."

"Figured. That thing was too damn easy. I didn't even break a sweat." She grabbed a room and dustpan from the corner of the room and dumped what was left of the demon into the garbage can. "There. No fuss no muss. Best kind of evil." Buffy blushed slightly when she remembered she wasn't alone in the room. "Okay, usually when I say things that dorky, I'm alone. Or with the Scoobies. Either way… sinking into the floor sounds like a positive personal goal at the moment."

When Lindsey smiled a response, she had to fight to keep her breathing at a steady level. "You'd be depriving the world of one of its great beauties if you did that. Besides, you should hear the conversations I've had all alone in my office. You haven't heard geeky until you've heard a bored lawyer rant to an empty room."

"The mental image does give me comfort." An amused grin spread across the slayer's face and the blush faded.

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"What the hell are you doing in here?" Buffy sat up quickly, pulling the bedspread up wit her. Her wide eyes followed the form of the man standing beside her bed. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, she said, "Hel-lo? Anybody home?"

Lindsey cleared his throat and sat down at the end of the bed. "I… needed to come here."

Buffy's heart began to beat faster at the confession, but she tried to fight the sensation. "Why?"

"The dreams… that kiss…" He turned to her, eyes shining in the moonlight. "Don't you feel it?" His left hand rested on Buffy's knee, and she could feel the warmth of his skin through her comforter.

Her lips parted, breath coming faster as she moved forward, closer to him. "I feel it. It's just… you… I mean, you're evil-" The moment the word left her mouth, Buffy felt stupid. And guilty. Lindsey flinched and looked away. "Oh, God, I'm sorry! I… I didn't mean… I…" A heartbeat later, Lindsey silenced her with a kiss. He pushed her back against the mattress, shoving the comforter aside impatiently. She moaned as the weight of his body covered her, the length of him pressed against her.

Lindsey trailed hot kisses from her lips to her neck while his hands moved over her body, finally stopping at her breasts. The thin material of her nightgown was hardly a barrier, and he teased her nipples until they stood erect, pushing against the silky fabric of her nightgown. She gently shoved him away and lifted the garment, already bunched up at her waist from their bodies shifting together, over her head before laying down again.

TBC


End file.
